THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

A  DUMB  WIFE 
BY  ANATOLE  FRANCE 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 
A  DUMB  WIFE 


"A  genius  at  his  zenith." — ATHENAEUM. 
THE  WORKS  OF 

Anatole  France 

(In  English) 

A  Complete  Series  is  Being  Prepared  Under 
the  Editorship  of  Frederic  Chapman 

8vo.    Cloth.  Per  volume,  $1.75  net. 

Descriptive  Circular  on  Application 

John  Lane  Company,  New  York 


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THE 

MAN  WHO  MARRIED 
A  DUMB  WIFE 


A  COMEDY  IN  TWO  ACTS 
BY 

ANATOLE  FRANCE 

Of  the  French  Academy 


TRANSLATED  FOB  MR.  GRANVILLE  BARKER 
BT 

CURTIS  HIDDEN  PAGE 

Translator  of  Moliere  and  Ronsard 


EIGHT  ILLUSTRATIONS 
FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS 


NEW  YORK 

JOHN  LANE   COMPANY 
MCMXV 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved,  including  rights  of  production  and  adaptation. 
The  dramatic  rights-are  controlled  by  Mr.  Granville  Barker.     Appli- 
cation for  the  right  of  production,  whether  amateur  or  professional, 
should  be  made  to  the  John  Lane  Company,  116  West  S8d  Street, 
New  York  City. 


Press  of 

J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 
New  York 


TO 

LELLAH  MCCARTHY 

AND 

GRANVILLE  BARKER 


INTRODUCTION 

The  comedy  of  "The  Man  Who  Married  a 
Dumb  Wife"  was  written,  or  at  least  begun, 
merely  to  entertain  the  members  of  the  "So- 
ciety of  Rabelaisian  Studies"  at  one  of  their 
meetings.  But  it  succeeded  so  well  that  it  was 
at  once  taken  up  by  a  regular  theatre,  the 
Porte-Saint-Martin,  in  the  spring  of  1912,  and 
again  at  the  Theatre  de  la  Renaissance  in  the 
autumn. 

It  is  founded  on  a  brief  passage  in  the 
"Lives,  Heroick  Deeds,  and  Sayings  of  Gargan- 
tua  and  His  Son  Pantagruel,"  where  one  of 
Rabelais'  characters  tells  of  a  joyous  incident 
in  his  student  days  at  the  University  of  Mont- 
pellier.  This  can  best  be  given  in  the  rich  and 
racy  old  English  translation  by  Sir  Thomas 
Urquhart,  who,  in  translating,  somewhat  en- 
larges on  Rabelais'  version. 

"  'Welcome,  in  good  faith,  my  dear  master, 
welcome !  It  did  me  good  to  hear  you  talk,  the 
7 


8  INTRODUCTION 

Lord  be  praised  for  all.  I  do  not  remember  to 
have  seen  you  before  now,  since  the  last  time 
that  you  acted  at  Montpellier  with  our  ancient 
friends,  Anthony  Saporra,  Guy  Bourguyer, 
Balthasar  Noyer,  Tolet,  John  Quentin,  Francis 
Robinet,  John  Perdrier  and  Francis  Rabelais, 
the  moral  comedy  of  him  who  had  espoused  and 
married  a  dumb  wife.' 

"  *I  was  there,'  quoth  Epistemon.  'The  good, 
honest  man,  her  husband,  was  very  earnestly 
urgent  to  have  the  fillet  of  her  tongue  untied, 
and  would  needs  have  her  speak  by  any  means. 
At  his  desire  some  pains  were  taken  on  her,  and 
partly  by  the  industry  of  the  physician,  other 
part  by  the  expertness  of  the  surgeon,  the 
encyliglotte  which  she  had  under  her  tongue 
being  cut,  she  spoke,  and  spoke  again;  yea, 
within  a  few  hours  she  spoke  so  loud,  so  much, 
so  fiercely,  and  so  long,  that  her  poor  husband 
returned  to  the  same  physician  for  a  recipe  to 
make  her  hold  her  peace.  "There  are,"  quoth 
the  physician,  "many  proper  remedies  in  our 
art  to  make  dumb  women  speak,  but  there  are 
none  that  ever  I  could  learn  therein  to  make 
them  silent.  The  only  cure  which  I  have  found 
out  is  their  husbands'  deafness."  The  wretch 


ymm 


MONSIEUR    ANATOLE    FRANCE 


INTRODUCTION  9 

became  within  a  few  weeks  thereafter,  by  virtue 
of  some  drugs,  charms  or  enchantments,  which 
the  physician  had  prescribed  unto  him,  so  deaf, 
that  he  could  not  have  heard  the  thundering 
of  nineteen  hundred  cannons  at  a  salvo.  His 
wife,  perceiving  that  indeed  he  was  deaf  as  a 
doornail,  and  that  her  scolding  was  but  in  vain, 
sith  that  he  heard  her  not,  she  grew  stark  mad.' 

"  'Then,  the  doctor  asking  for  his  fee,  the 
husband  answered  that  truly  he  was  deaf,  and 
so  was  not  able  to  understand  what  the  tenour 
of  this  demand  might  be.  Whereupon  the  leech 
bedusted.  him  with  a  little,  I  know  not  what, 
sort  of  powder,  which  rendered  him  a  fool 
immediately,  so  great  was  the  stultificating  vir- 
tue of  that  strange  kind  of  pulverised  dose. 
Then  did  this  fool  of  a  husband  and  his  mad 
wife  join  together,  and,  falling  on  the  doctor 
and  the  surgeon,  did  so  scratch,  bethwack,  and 
bang  them,  that  they  were  left  half  dead  upon 
the  place,  so  furious  were  the  blows  which  they 
received.  I  never  in  all  my  lifetime  laughed  so 
much  as  at  the  acting  of  that  buffoonery.' ' 

It  was  probably  this  brief  passage  in  Rabe- 
lais that  suggested  to  Moliere,  who  knew  his 
Rabelais  thoroughly,  two  of  the  best  scenes  in 


10  INTRODUCTION 

the  third  act  of  his  "Doctor  by  Compulsion." 
But  Moliere  has  entirely  changed  the  charac- 
ters, their  relations  to  each  other,  and  the 
whole  setting  of  the  incident;  he  has  made  the 
dumb  wife  into  a  daughter,  who  only  pretends 
to  have  been  struck  dumb  temporarily  in  order 
to  escape  from  marriage  with  a  rich  old  man. 
The  pretended  doctor,  who  "cures"  her,  is  a 
secret  agent  of  her  lover,  whom  he  brings  along 
with  him  disguised  as  an  apothecary.  But 
Moliere  uses  to  full  advantage  the  situation 
after  the  "cure";  for  the  young  lady  recovers 
her  speech  only  to  assert  that  she  will  have  none 
of  the  old  man,  that  she  will  marry  no  one 
except  her  Lysander,  that  she  will  on  no  con- 
sideration obey  her  father  or  even  for  a  moment 
listen  to  him;  she  speaks,  "so  loud,  so  much,  so 
fiercely,  and  so  long,"  that  her  father  in  despair 
calls  on  the  doctor  to  make  her  dumb  again, 
only  to  receive  the  same  answer  as  the  husband 
in  Rabelais'  story. 

Whether  there  ever  existed  such  a  play  as 
Rabelais  describes  and  Moliere  imitates — 
whether  Rabelais  drew  the  story  from  his  capa- 
cious memory  or  from  his  equally  capacious 
and  riotously  creative  imagination — can  prob- 


INTRODUCTION  11 

ably  never  be  known.  But  there  ought  to  have 
been  such  a  play;  it  might  even  serve  as  a  per- 
fect type  of  the  mediaeval  drama ;  it  is  actually 
needed  by  the  scholarly  seekers  after  Moliere's 
and  Rabelais'  sources !  And  since,  if  it  ever 
existed,  it  has  now  been  lost,  Monsieur  Anatole 
France  has  been  good  enough  to  re-create  it 
for  us. 

Monsieur  France  is  not  primarily  a  drama- 
tist. In  fact,  in  his  abundant  production  of 
many  kinds,  there  are  in  all  only  three  or  four 
brief  plays.  But  in  whatever  he  turns  his  hand 
to  he  is  always  a  clever  craftsman  and  a  master 
of  French  style  at  its  best — which  is,  of  course, 
the  best  in  the  world.  And  whether  he  is 
writing  a  novel,  or  sketches  of  provincial  or 
Parisian  manners,  or  politics,  or  criticism,  or 
incidentally  turning  to  modern  or  mediaeval 
drama,  he  is  always  a  satirist  of  society  and  a 
sociable  satirist. 

In  "The  Man  Who  Married  a  Dumb  Wife" 
his  social  satire  is  thoroughly  up-to-date,  deal- 
ing as  it  does  with  subjects  which  are  "of  all 
time,"  such  as  the  high  cost  of  living,  the  ser- 
vant problem,  the  tendency  to  extravagance, 
the  fashions  of  to-day  and  to-morrow,  the  wis- 


12  INTRODUCTION 

dom,  and  the  pretensions  to  wisdom,  of  the 
medical  profession,  the  loquacity  of  the  ladies, 
and  so  on  and  so  on — it  is  remarkable  how 
much  he  has  got  in,  and  how  little  he  has  left 
out.  Much  of  it  is  done  in  the  broad,  mediaeval 
manner,  as  when  he  exhibits  the  enormous  sur- 
gical instruments  of  the  doctors  who  take  good 
care  "not  to  be  caught  unarmed  by  a  patient," 
or  when  he  follows  with  entire  faithfulness  the 
simple  outlines  of  the  plot  as  given  by  Rabelais ; 
but  everything  is  as  delicately  worked  out  in 
detail  as  Monsieur  France's  own  work  cannot 
help  being.  He  has  used  the  language  of 
to-day,  without  any  artificial  help  from  the 
"marry-come-up,  'sblood,  'sdeath,  and  go-to" 
style,  which  our  too  easily  historical  novelists 
and  dramatists  so  blithely  resort  to ;  yet  he  has 
perfectly  reproduced  the  tone  and  spirit  of 
mediaeval  comedy. 

It  should  be  added  that  Mr.  Granville  Barker 
in  his  production  has  achieved  exactly  the  same 
kind  of  doubly  artistic  effect,  in  his  broad,  sim- 
ple outlining  of  the  whole  conception  and  dec- 
oration, and  his  minute  and  delicate  attention 
to  every  detail  of  the  groupings,  intonations, 
costumes,  postures,  and  colouring.  The  "dec- 


INTRODUCTION  13 

oration,"  designed  by  Mr.  Robert  E.  Jones,  has 
been  best  described  by  Mr.  Woolcott: 

"What  you  see  in  the  single  setting  is 
the  front  of  Master  Botal's  house,  look- 
ing out  toward  the  .  .  .  but  was  the 
Pont-Neuf  built  then?  Your  view  is  of 
the  interior  of  one  of  the  rooms  and  of 
the  street  in  front.  It  is  a  gray  and 
black  background,  simple,  flat,  slightly 
conventionalized  in  design,  and  unob- 
trusively serviceable  to  the  movement  of 
the  quaintly  clad  figures  in  front  of  it, 
and  to  the  splotches  of  plain,  vivid 
colouring  that  the  costuming  involves. 
All  these  are  right  and  contributory, 
from  the  black  hose  of  the  agile  and 
amative  secretary  to  the  buttercup  gown 
of  Mistress  So  and  So  who  goes  mincing 
insufferably  by,  with  her  lackey  literally 
dancing  attendance.  Robert  E.  Jones, 
the  young  American  disciple  of  the  'new 
school,'  who  did  the  decorations,  is  to  be 
congratulated.  What  is  produced  by 
his  work  and  by  every  line  and  posture 
of  the  play — the  contributions  are  in- 
distinguishable— is  a  rich  flavour  of 
fanciful  medievalism." 

Every  detail  of  the  movements  of  the  char- 
acters    against     this     background     has     been 


14  INTRODUCTION 

planned  even  more  carefully  than  is  usual  in 
good  dramatic  production,  so  that  at  any  and 
every  moment  when  the  spectator  thinks  of 
looking  for  it  he  will  find  a  well-composed  pic- 
ture on  the  stage.  Yet  the  rollicking  farce- 
comedy  seems  to  go  all  the  more  rapidly  for 
this  careful  planning.  I  have  tried  to  carry 
over  into  the  printed  text  some  sense  of  these 
details,  without  too  much  slowing-up  the  move- 
ment or  blurring  the  picture,  by  giving  enough 
additional  stage  directions  adapted  from  Mr. 
Barker's  prompt-book,  to  suggest  the  manner 
of  production.  All  such  additions  to  M.  Ana- 
tole  France's  text  are  enclosed  in  parentheses. 
It  only  remains  to  express  my  hearty  thanks 
to  Mr.  Barker  both  for  the  use  of  his  prompt- 
book and  for  many  other  generous  courtesies; 
and  to  Mr.  Cecil  Sharp  for  his  kind  permission 
to  print  the  music  which  he  has  so  aptly 
adapted  to  the  songs  and  street-cries. 

C.  H.  P. 


MR.    GRANVILLE    BARKER 


FACING 

PAGE 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Good  gentlemen  and  ladies,  we 
pray  you  to  forgive  the  au- 
thor all  his  faults"  .  .  .  Frontispiece 

Monsieur  Anatole  France       .....  8 

Mr.  Granville  Barker 14 

"Enter   Catherine" 36 

"Now  we  are  here,  shall  we  go  see  the  pa- 
tient?"        46 

"Mademoiselle,  you  arouse  my  interest"     .  72 

"  'Tis  delicious  !    I  can't  hear  a  thing"      .  90 

"Oh!    She  has  bitten  me!"  92 


PROPERTY   PLOT 


Doctor's  Telescope 

Gilded  Flasks 

Gilded  Glasses  on  wooden 

Tray 

Curtains  to  work 
Books 
Bookcase 
Parchments 
Distaff  on  Bookcase 
Tome 
Red  Step-Ladder 

1  Chair 

2  Baskets  for  Alison  with 
Chianti  Bottles 

Gold   Cloth    (draped   over 

balcony) 

Table  with  white  Cover 
Black  Quill 
Inkwell 


A  Chickweed  Basket 

A  Watercress  Basket 

Cane  for  Blind  Man 

Cane  for  Maugie 

Case  containing  four  large 
instruments 

Form  in  front  of  Table 

12-ft.  Bench  below  Bal- 
cony 

Covered  Basket 

Sand  Box 

Water  Pitcher 

Rebeck  and  Bow 

1  Broom  for  Sweep 

Spectacles 

Candles  on  a  String 

Statement  for  Fum6e 

Tapestry  Frame 

Gilded  Vial  for  Powder 


First  Production  for  the  Stage  Society, 

Wallaces  Theatre,  New  York  City, 

January  26,  1915. 

DRAMATIS   PERSONS 

Master  Leonard  Botal,  Judge   .    .  O.  P.  Heggie 
Master  Adam  Fumee,  Lawyer   .    .  Edgar  Kent 
Master  Simon  Colline,  Doctor   .    .  Arnold  Lucy 
Master  Jean  Maugier,  Surgeon     .  Lionel  Braham 
Master  Serafin  Dulaurier,  Apoth- 
ecary        Ernest  Cossart 

Giles  Boiscourtier,  Secretary     .    .  Horace  Braham 

A  Blind  Fiddler Cecil  Cameron 

Catherine,  Botal's  Wife     ....  Lillah  McCarthy 

Alison,  Botal's  Servant     ....  Eva  Leonard-Boyne 

Mademoiselle  de  la  Garandiere     .  Isabel  Jeans 

Madame  de  la  Bruine Ruby  Blyth 

The   Chickweed   Man Edgar  Roberts 

The  Watercress  Man Gerald  Hamer 

The  Candle  Man Hugh  McRae 

Page  to  Mademoiselle  de  la  Ga- 
randiere     .    .  Edmond  Banks 

Footman  to  Madame  de  la  Bruine  Manice  Lewis 

First   Doctor's   Attendant     .     .    .  Richard  Cort 

Second  Doctor's  Attendant  .         ,  Gerald  Gardener 


PERSONS   OF   THE   PLAY 

MASTER  LEONARD  BOTAL,  Judge. 
MASTER  ADAM  FUMEE,  Lawyer. 
MASTER  SIMON  COLLINE,  Doctor. 
MASTER  JEAN  MATTGIER,  Surgeon  and  Barber. 
MASTER  SERAFIN  DULAURIER,  Apothecary. 
GILES   BOISCOURTIER,   Leonard  Botal's   Secre- 
tary. 

A  BLIND  MAN. 

CATHERINE,  Leonard  Botal's  wife. 
ALISON,  Leonard  Botal's  servant. 
MADEMOISELLE  DE  LA  GARANDIERE. 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 
A  DUMB   WIFE 

ACT   I 

A  large  room  in  JUDGE  LEONARD  BOTAL'S 
house,  at  Paris. 

Left:  Main  entrance,  from  the  rue  Dau- 
phme;  when  the  door  is  open,  vista  to 
the  Pont-Neuf. 

Right:    Door  to  the  kitchen. 

At  the  rear  of  the  stage:  A  wooden  stair- 
way, leading  to  the  upper  rooms. 

On  the  walls  are  portraits  of  magistrates, 
in  gown  and  wig,  and  along  the  walls, 
great  cabinets,  or  cupboards,  full  of 
books,  papers,  parchments,  and  bags  of 
legal  documents,  with  more  piled  on  top 
of  the  cabinets.  There  is  a  double  step- 
ladder  on  castors,  with  flat  steps  on 
19 


20          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

each  side,  used  to  reach  the  top  of  the 
cabinets. 

A  writing  table,  small  chairs,  upholstered 
arm-chairs,  and  a  spinning-wheel. 

(In  Mr.  Granville  Barker's  production, 
the  street  is  shown  in  front  of  the  house, 
instead  of  being  concealed  behind  it;  so 
that  the  chimney-sweep,  the  chickweed- 
seller,  the  candle-man,  etc.,  pass  across 
the  front  of  the  stage. 

The  street  door  of  the  house  opens  on  a 
hall-way,  from  which  a  door  leads  off  to 
the  kitchen,  and  a  short  stairway  leads 
up,  in  a  direction  parallel  with  the  front 
of  the  stage,  past  a  double  lattice  win- 
dow open  to  the  street,  to  an  upper 
room  in  which  most  of  the  action  takes 
place. 

This  room  has  a  large  balcony  and  win- 
dow-seat, and  stands  entirely  open  to 
the  street.  The  writing-table,  book- 
case (instead  of  cabinets),  and  step- 
ladder  are  seen  within  it.  There  is  a 
bench  or  form,  long  enough  to  seat  two 
or  three  people,  in  front  of  the  table. 
A  door  at  the  right  rear  corner  of  the 


A  DUMB  WIFE  21 

room  is  supposed  to  open  on  a  stairway 
leading  to  the  rooms  above.) 


SCENE  I 

GILES    BOISCOURTIER,    ALISON;    later   MASTER 

ADAM     FUMEE     and     MASTER     LEONARD 

BOTAL. 

(Giles  is  discovered  sitting  on  a  small  form 
m  front  of  the  table;  on  the  rise  of  the 
curtain  he  turns  to  the  audience,  bows 
in  flamboyant  style,  and  then  sits  down 
again,  with  his  back  to  the  audience. 

The  CHICKWEED  MAN  goes  by,  callmg: 
"Chickweed!  Chickweed!  Good  bird- 
seed, good  birdseed,  good  birdseed  for 
saale !" 

Enter  ALISON,  with  a  large  basket  under 
each  arm.  She  curtsies  to  the  audience. 
GILES,  as  soon  as  he  spies  her,  runs  to 
the  street  door  and  stands  quiet  beside 
it,  so  that  she  does  not  notice  him.  As 
she  starts  to  enter  the  house,  he  jumps 
at  her  and  snatches  a  bottle  from  one 
of  the  baskets.) 


22          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

ALISON 

Holy  Mary,  don't  you  know  better  than  to 
jump  at  anybody  like  a  bogie-man,  right  here 
in  a  public  place? 

GILES 

[Pulling  a  bottle  of  wine  out  of  the  other 

basket.] 

Don't  scream,  you  little  goose.  Nobody's 
going  to  pluck  you.  You're  not  worth  it. 

(Enter  MASTER  ADAM  FUMEE.  He  bows 
to  the  audience.) 

ALISON 

Will  you  let  the  Judge's  wine  alone,  you 
rascal ! 

[She  sets  down  her  baskets,  snatches  back 
one  of  the  bottles,  cuffs  the  secretary, 
picks  up  her  baskets,  and  goes  off  to  the 
kitchen.  The  kitchen  fire-place  is  seen 
through  the  half -open  door.] 

MASTER    ADAM 

(Slightly  formal  in  manner  and  speech  at 
first.) 


A  DUMB  WIFE  23 

Is  this  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Leonard  Botal, 
Judge  in  civil  and  criminal  cases? 

GILES 

(With  bottle  behind  his  back,  and  bow- 
ing.) 

Yes,  sir ;  it's  here,  sir ;  and  I'm  his  secretary, 
Giles  Boiscourtier,  at  your  service,  sir. 

MASTER    ADAM 

Then,  boy,  go  tell  him  his  old  school-fellow, 
Master  Adam  Fumee,  lawyer,  wishes  to  see  him 
on  business. 

GILES 
Here  he  comes  now,  sir. 

[LEONARD  BOTAL  comes  down  the  stairs. 
GILES  goes  off  into  the  kitchen.] 

MASTER    ADAM 

Good  day,  Master  Leonard  Botal,  I  am  de- 
lighted to  see  you  again. 

LEONARD 

Good  morning,  Master  Adam  Fumee,  how 
have  you  been  this  long  time  that  I  haven't  set 
eyes  on  you? 


24          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER    ADAM 

Well,  very  well.  And  I  hope  I  find  you  the 
same,  your  Honour. 

LEONARD 

Fairly  so,  fairly  so.     And  what  good  wind 
wafts  you  hither,  Master  Adam  Fumee? 
(They  come  forward  in  the  room.) 

MASTER   ADAM 

I've  come  from  Chartres  on  purpose  to  put 
in  your  own  hands  a  statement  on  behalf  of 
a  young  orphan  girl  .  .  . 

LEONARD 

Master  Adam  Fumee,  do  you  remember  the 
days  when  we  were  law  students  together  at 
Orleans  University? 

MASTER   ADAM 

Yes,  yes ;  we  used  to  play  the  flute  together, 
and  take  the  ladies  out  to  picnics,  and  dance 
from  morning  to  night.  .  .  But  I've  come,  your 
Honour,  my  dear  old  school-fellow,  to  hand  you 


A  DUMB  WIFE  25 

a  statement  on  behalf  of  a  young  orphan  girl 
whose  case  is  now  pending  before  you. 


LEONARD 

Will  she  give  good  fees? 

MASTER    ADAM 

She  is  a  young  orphan  girl  .  .  . 

LEONARD 

Yes,  yes,  I  know.  But,  will  she  give  good 
fees? 

MASTER    ADAM 

She  is  a  young  orphan  girl,  who's  been 
robbed  by  her  guardian,  and  he  left  her  nothing 
but  her  eyes  to  weep  with.  But  if  she  wins  her 
suit,  she  will  be  rich  again,  and  will  give  plen- 
tiful proof  of  her  gratitude. 

LEONARD 

[Talcing    the    statement    which    Master 

Adam  hands  him,] 
We  will  look  into  the  matter. 


26          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 


MASTER    ADAM 

I  thank  you,  your  Honour,  my  dear  old 
school-fellow. 

LEONARD 

We  will  look  into  it,  without  fear  or  favour. 

MASTER    ADAM 

That  goes  without  saying.  .  .  .  But,  tell 
me:  Is  everything  going  smoothly  with  you? 
You  seem  worried.  And  yet,  you  are  well 
placed  here  .  .  .  the  judgeship's  a  good  one? 

LEONARD 

I  paid  enough  for  it  to  be  a  good  one — and 
I  didn't  get  cheated. 

MASTER    ADAM 

Perhaps  you  are  lonely.  Why  don't  you  get 
married  ? 

LEONARD 

What,  what!  Don't  you  know,  Master 
Adam,  that  I  have  just  been  married?  (They 
sit  down  on  the  form  in  front  of  the  table.) 
Yes,  only  last  month,  to  a  girl  from  one  of  our 


A  DUMB  WIFE  27 

best  country  families,  young  and  handsome, 
Catherine  Momichel,  the  seventh  daughter  of 
the  Criminal  Court  Judge  at  Salency.  But 
alas !  she  is  dumb.  Now  you  know  my  affliction. 

MASTER   ADAM 

Your  wife  is  dumb? 

LEONARD 

Alas,  yes. 

MASTER   ADAM 

Quite,  quite  dumb? 

LEONARD 

As  a  fish. 

MASTER   ADAM 

And  you  didn't  notice  it  till  after  you'd  mar- 
ried her? 

LEONARD 

Oh,  I  couldn't  help  noticing  it,  of  course,  but 
it  didn't  seem  to  make  so  much  difference  to  me 
then  as  it  does  now.  I  considered  her  beauty, 
and  her  property,  and  thought  of  nothing  but 


28          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

the  advantages  of  the  match  and  the  happiness 
I  should  have  with  her.  But  now  these  mat- 
ters seem  less  important,  and  I  do  wish  she 
could  talk;  that  would  be  a  real  intellectual 
pleasure  for  me,  and,  what's  more,  a  practical 
advantage  for  the  household.  What  does  a 
Judge  need  most  in  his  house?  Why,  a  good- 
looking  wife,  to  receive  the  suitors  pleasantly, 
and,  by  subtle  suggestions,  gently  bring  them 
to  the  point  of  making  proper  presents,  so 
that  their  cases  may  receive — more  careful  at- 
tention. People  need  to  be  encouraged  to  make 
proper  presents.  A  woman,  by  clever  speech 
and  prudent  action,  can  get  a  good  ham  from 
one,  and  a  roll  of  cloth  from  another ;  and  make 
still  another  give  poultry  or  wine.  But  this 
poor  dumb  thing  Catherine  gets  nothing  at  all. 
While  my  fellow- judges  have  their  kitchens  and 
cellars  and  stables  and  store-rooms  running 
over  with  good  things,  all  thanks  to  their 
wives,  I  hardly  get  wherewithal  to  keep  the  pot 
boiling.  You  see,  Master  Adam  Fumee,  what 
I  lose  by  having  a  dumb  wife.  I'm  not  worth 
half  as  much.  .  .  .  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  I'm 
losing  my  spirits,  and  almost  my  wits;  with  it 
all. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  29 


MASTER    ADAM 

There's  no  reason  in  that,  now,  your  Honour. 
Just  consider  the  thing  closely,  and  you  will 
find  some  advantages  in  your  case  as  it  stands, 
and  no  mean  ones  neither. 

LEONARD 

No,  no,  Master  Adam;  you  don't  under- 
stand. Think! — When  I  hold  my  wife  in  my 
arms — a  woman  as  beautiful  as  the  finest 
carved  statue,  at  least  so  I  think — and  quite 
as  silent,  that  I'm  sure  of — it  makes  me  feel 
queer  and  uncanny ;  I  even  ask  myself  if  I'm 
holding  a  graven  image  or  a  mechanical  toy,  or 
a  magic  doll  made  by  a  sorcerer,  not  a  real  hu- 
man child  of  our  Father  in  Heaven ;  sometimes, 
in  the  morning,  I  am  tempted  to  jump  out  of 
bed  to  escape  from  bewitchment. 

MASTER   ADAM 

What  notions ! 

LEONARD 

Worse  yet !  What  with  having  a  dumb  wife, 
I'm  going  dumb  myself.  Sometimes  I  catch 


30          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

myself  using  signs,  as  she  does.  The  other  day, 
on  the  Bench,  I  even  pronounced  judgment  in 
pantomime,  and  condemned  a  man  to  the  gal- 
leys, just  by  dumb  show  and  gesticulation. 


MASTER    ADAM 

Enough !  Say  no  more !  I  can  see  that  a 
dumb  wife  may  be  a  pretty  poor  conversation- 
alist! There's  not  much  fun  in  talking  your- 
self, when  you  get  no  response. 


LEONARD 

Now  you  know  the  reason  why  I'm  in  low 
spirits. 

MASTER    ADAM 

I  won't  contradict  you;  I  admit  that  your 
reason  is  full  and  sufficient.  But  perhaps 
there's  a  remedy.  Tell  me:  Is  your  wife  deaf 
as  well  as  dumb? 

LEONARD 

Catherine  is  no  more  deaf  than  you  and  I 
are;  even  less,  I  might  say.  She  can  hear  the 
very  grass  growing. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  31 

MASTER   ADAM 

Then  the  case  is  not  hopeless.  When  the 
doctors  and  surgeons  and  apothecaries  succeed 
in  making  the  deaf-and-dumb  speak,  their  ut- 
terance is  as  poor  as  their  ears ;  for  they  can't 
hear  what  they  say  themselves,  any  more  than 
what's  said  to  them.  But  it's  quite  different 
with  the  dumb  who  can  hear.  'Tis  but  child's 
play  for  a  doctor  to  untie  their  tongues.  The 
operation  is  so  simple  that  it's  done  every  day 
to  puppies  that  can't  learn  to  bark.  Must  a 
countryman  like  me  come  to  town  to  tell  you 
that  there's  a  famous  doctor,  just  around  the 
corner  from  your  own  house,  in  Buci  Square,  at 
the  Sign  of  the  Dragon,  Master  Simon  Colline, 
who  has  made  a  reputation  for  loosing  the 
tongues  of  the  ladies  of  Paris?  In  a  turn  of 
the  hand,  he'll  draw  from  your  wife's  lips  a  full 
flood  of  mellifluous  speech,  just  as  you'd  turn 
on  a  spigot  and  let  the  water  run  forth  like  a 
sweet-purling  brook. 

LEONABD 

Is  this  true,  Master  Adam?  Aren't  you  de- 
ceiving me?  Aren't  you  speaking  as  a  lawyer 
in  court? 


32          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER    ADAM 

I'm  speaking  as  a  friend,  and  telling  you  the 
plain  truth. 

LEONARD 

Then  I'll  send  for  this  famous  doctor — and 
that  right  away. 

MASTER    ADAM 

As  you  please.  .  .  .  But  before  you  call  him 
in,  you  must  reflect  soberly,  and  consider  what 
it's  really  best  to  do.  For,  take  it  all  in  all, 
though  there  are  some  disadvantages  in  having 
a  dumb  wife,  there  are  some  advantages,  too. 
.  .  .  Well,  good  day,  your  Honour,  my  dear  old 
school-fellow.  (They  go  together  to  the  street 
door.)  Remember,  I'm  truly  your  friend — and 
read  over  my  statement,  I  beg  you-  If  you  give 
your  just  judgment  in  favor  of  the  orphan 
girl  robbed  by  her  grasping  guardian,  you  will 
have  no  cause  to  regret  it. 

LEONARD 

Be  back  this  afternoon,  Master  Adam  Fu- 
mee;  I  will  have  my  decision  ready. 

[They  bow  low  to  each  other.    Exit  MAS- 
TER ADAM.] 


A  DUMB  WIFE  33 

SCENE  II 
LEONARD;  later  GILES;  later  CATHERINE. 

LEONARD 

[At  the  door,  calling.] 

Giles !  Giles !  .  .  .  The  rogue  never  hears 
me ;  he  is  in  the  kitchen,  as  usual,  upsetting  the 
soup  and  the  servant.  He's  a  knave  and  a 
scoundrel.  Giles!  .  .  .  Giles!  .  .  .  Here,  you 
rapscallion !  You  reprobate !  .  .  . 

GILES 
Present,  your  Honour. 

LEONARD 

(Taking  him  by  the  ear.) 
Sirrah!  Go  straight  to  the  famous  doctor, 
Master  Simon  Colline,  who  lives  in  Buci  Square, 
at  the  Sign  of  the  Dragon,  and  tell  him  to 
come  to  my  house  at  once,  to  treat  a  dumb 
woman.  .  .  . 

GILES 
Yes,  your  Honour. 

(GILES  starts  off,  running,  to  the  right.) 


34          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

Go  the  nearest  way,  not  round  by  the  New 
Bridge,  to  watch  the  jugglers.  I  know  you, 
you  slow-poke;  there's  not  such  another  cheat 
and  loafer  in  ten  counties. 

f  GILES  comes  back,  slowly,  across  stage, 
and  stops.) 

GILES 

Sir,  you  wrong  me.  .  .  . 

LEONARD 

Be  off!  and  bring  the  famous  doctor  back 
with  you. 

GILES 

(Bolting  off  to  the  left.) 
Yes,  your  Honour. 

LEONARD 

[Going  up  and  sitting  down  at  the  table, 

which  is  loaded  with  brief -bags.] 

I  have  fourteen  verdicts  to  render  to-day, 

besides  the  decree  in  the  case  of  Master  Adam 

Fumee's  ward.     And  that  is  no  small  labour, 

because  a  decree,  to  do  credit  to  the  Judge, 


A  DUMB  WIFE  35 

must  be  cleverly  worded,  subtle,  elegant,  and 
adorned  with  all  the  ornaments  both  of  style 
and  of  thought.     The  ideas  must  be  pleasingly 
conceived    and    playfully    expressed.      Where 
should  one  show  one's  wit,  if  not  in  a  verdict? 
(The  WATERCRESS  MAN  enters  from  the 
right  and  crosses   to   the  left  singing: 
"Good     watercress,      fresh     from     the 
spring!   Keeps  you  healthy  and  hearty! 
Six  farthings   a  bunch.      Six  farthings 
a  bunch."     When  the  watercress  man  is 
well  on,  enter   the  CANDLE  MAN  from 
left  to  right,  singing:    "Candles!    Cot- 
ton-wick candles !     Burn  bright  as  the 
stars !"   While  he  is  passing,  CATHERINE 
enters  from  the  upper  stairway  door; 
she  curtsies  to  the  audience  and  then  sits 
on  the  window-seat,  embroidering.     As 
the  street-cries  die  away  LEONARD  looks 
up  from  his  work  at  the  table,  and  see- 
ing Catherine,  goes  to  her  and  kisses  her 
as  she  rises  to  meet  him.     She  makes  a 
curtsy,  kisses  him  in  return,  and  listens 
with  pleased  attention.) 

Good  morning,  my  love.   ...  I  didn't  even 
hear  you  come  down.     You  are  like  the  fairy 


36          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

forms  in  the  stories,  that  seem  to  glide  upon 

air;   or  like   the   dreams   which    the   gods,   as 

poets     tell,     send    down    to    happy    mortals. 

(CATHERINE    shows    her   pleasure   in   his 

compliments.) 

My  love,  you  are  a  marvel  of  nature,  and  a 
triumph  of  art ;  you  have  all  charms  but  speech. 
(^CATHERINE  turns  away  sobbing  slightly.) 
Shouldn't  you  be  glad  to  have  that,  too? 
(She  turns  back,  intensely  interested.) 
Shouldn't  you  be  happy  to  let  your  lips  utter 
all  the  pretty  thoughts  I  can  read  in  your  eyes  ? 
Shouldn't  you  be  pleased  to  show  your  wit? 
(She  waves  her  handkerchief  in  glee.) 
Shouldn't  you  like  to  tell  your  husband  how 
you  love  him?  Wouldn't  it  be  delightful  to  call 
him  your  treasure  and  sweetheart?  Yes, 
surely !  .  .  .  (They  rise.  CATHERINE  is  full  of 
pleased  animation.) 

Well,  I've  a  piece  of  good  news  for  you,  my 
love.  ...  A  great  doctor  is  coming  here  pres- 
ently, who  can  make  you  talk.  .  .  . 

[CATHERINE  shows  her  satisfaction,  danc- 
ing gracefully  up  and  down.] 

He  will  untie  your  tongue  and  never  hurt  you 
a  bit. 


ENTER    CATHERINE 


A  DUMB  WIFE  37 

[CATHERINE'S  movements  express  charm- 
ing and  joyous  impatience.  A  BLIND 
MAN  goes  by  m  the  street  plat/ing  a 
lively  old-fashioned  country  dance.  He 
stops  and  calls  out  in  a  dolefid  voice: 
"Charity,  for  the  love  of  God,  good  gen- 
tlemen and  ladies."  ('LEONARD  motions 
him  away,  but  CATHERINE  pleads  for 
him  by  her  gestures,  indicating  that  he 
is  blind.  LEONARD  yields  and  goes  back 
to  his  writing-table.  She  stands  at  the 
window  listening  while  the  blind  man 
sings.)] 

THE    BLIND    MAN 

There's  lots  of  good  fish  in  the  sea, 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra; 
Now  who  will  come  and  fish  with  me? 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra; 
Now  who'll  with  me  a-fishing  go? 
My  dainty,  dainty  damsel,  01 
Come  fish  the  livelong  day  with  me, 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 
And  who  will  then  be  caught? — we'll  see! 

La  dee  ra,  dee  ra,  day. 


38          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

(Toward  the  end  of  the  verse  CATHERINE 
glances  at  Leonard  and  sees  that  she  is 
unobserved;  she  steals  to  the  street 
door  as  the  BLIND  MAN  begins  the  sec- 
ond verse  there;  during  this  verse  she 
dances  to  him  and  frolics  around  the 
stage  as  he  sings.) 

THE    BLIND    MAN 

Along  the  rippling  river's  bank, 
La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 

Along  the  wimpling  water's  bank, 
La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 

Along  the  bank  so  shady  O 

I  met  the  miller's  lady,  O 

And  danced  with  her  the  livelong  day 
La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 

And  oh!  I  danced  my  heart  away! 
La  dee  ra,  dee  ra,  day. 

{The  BLIND  MAN  stops  playing  and  sing- 
ing, and  says,  in  a  hollow  and  terrifying 
voice:  "Charity,  for  the  love  of  God, 
good  gentlemen  and  ladies."] 

LEONARD 

[Who  has  been  buried  in  his  documents 
and  noticed  nothing,  now  drives  the 


A  DUMB  WIFE  39 

BLIND  MAN  off  the  stage  with  objurga- 
tions.] 
Vagabond,  robber,  ruffian! 

[And  throws  a  lot  of  brief-bags  and  books 

at  his  head;  then  speaks  to  CATHERINE, 

who  has  gone  back  to  her  place.} 

My    love,    since    you    came    downstairs,    I 

haven't  been  wasting  my  time ;  I  have  sentenced 

fourteen  men  and  six  women  to  the  pillory ;  and 

distributed,  among  seventeen  different  people — 

(He  counts  up) — six,  twenty-four,  thirty-two, 

forty- four,  forty-seven ;  and  nine,  fifty-six ;  and 

eleven,  sixty-seven ;  and  ten,  seventy-seven ;  and 

eight,  eighty-five;  and  twenty,  a  hundred  and 

five — a  hundred  and  five  years  in  the  galleys. 

Doesn't  that  make  you  realise  the  great  power 

of  a  judge?    How  can  I  help  feeling  some  pride 

in  it? 

[CATHERINE,  who  has  stopped  her  work, 
leans  on  the  table,  and  smilingly  watches 
her  husband.  Then  she  sits  down  on  the 
table,  which  is  covered  with  brief-bags.] 

LEONARD 

[Making  as  if  to  pull  the  bags  from  under 
her.} 


40          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

My  love,  you  are  hiding  great  criminals  from 
my  justice.  Thieves  and  murderers.  But  I  will 
not  pursue  them,  their  place  of  refuge  is  sa- 
cred. 

[A  CHIMNEY  SWEEP  passes  in  the  street, 
calling:  "Sweep  your  chimneys,  my  la- 
dies; sweep  them  clear  and  clean."] 
[LEONARD  and  CATHERINE  kiss  across  the 
table.  But,  seeing  the  DOCTORS  arriv- 
ing, CATHERINE  runs  off  up  the  stairs.] 


A  DUMB  WIFE  41 

SCENE  III 

LEONARD,  GILES,  MASTER  SIMON  COLLINE, 
MASTER  JEAN  MAUGIER,  Two  ATTENDANTS; 
later  MASTER  SERAFIN  DULAURIER;  later 
ALISON. 

(Enter,  in  formal  procession,  GILES,  lead- 
ing the  line  and  imitating  a  trumpeter, 
then  the  two  DOCTORS'  ATTENDANTS, 
then  MASTER  SIMON  and  MASTER  JEAN. 
The  ATTENDANTS,  one  carrymg  the  case 
of  instruments,  take  their  stand  on 
either  side  of  the  door.  The  Doctor 
and  Surgeon  bow  formally  to  the  au- 
dience.) 

GILES 

Your  Honour,  here's  the  great  doctor  you 
sent  for. 

MASTER  SIMON,  bowing 

Yes,  I  am  Master  Simon  Colline  himself. 
.  .  .  And  this  is  Master  Jean  Maugier,  sur- 
geon. You  called  for  our  services? 

UEONARD 

Yes,  sir,  to  make  a  dumb  woman  speak. 


42          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER    SIMON 

Good!  We  must  wait  for  Master  Serafin 
Dulaurier,  apothecary.  As  soon  as  he  comes 
we  will  proceed  to  operate  according  to  our 
knowledge  and  understanding. 

LEONARD 

Ah !  You  really  need  an  apothecary  to  make 
a  dumb  woman  speak? 

MASTER    SIMON 

Yes,  sir;  to  doubt  it  is  to  show  total  igno- 
rance of  the  relations  of  the  organs  to  each 
other,  and  of  their  mutual  interdependence. 
Master  Serafin  Dulaurier  will  soon  be  here. 

MASTER    JEAN    MAUGIER 

[Suddenly    bellowing    out    m    stentorian 

tones.] 

Oh!  how  grateful  we  should  be  to  learned 
doctors  like  Master  Simon  Colline,  who  labour 
to  preserve  us  in  health  and  comfort  us  in  sick- 
ness. Oh !  how  worthy  of  praise  and  of  bless- 
ings are  these  noble  doctors  who  follow  in  their 
profession  the  rules  of  scientific  theory  and  of 
long  practice. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  43 

MASTER    SIMON 

[Bowing  slightly.] 

You  are  much  too  kind,  Master  Jean  Mau- 
gier. 

LEONARD 

While  we  are  waiting  for  the  apothecary, 
won't  you  take  some  light  refreshment,  gentle- 
men? 

MASTER    SIMON 

Most  happy. 

MASTER    JEAN 

Delighted. 

LEONARD 

Alison !  ...  So  then,  Master  Simon  Colline, 
you  will  perform  a  slight  operation  and  make 
my  wife  speak? 

MASTER    SIMON 

Say,  rather,  I  shall  order  the  operation.  I 
command,  Master  Jean  Maugier  executes.  .  .  . 
Have  you  your  instruments  with  you,  Master 
Jean  ? 

MASTER    JEAN 

Yes,  Master. 

[(He  claps  his  hands;  the  attendants  run 
forward  into  the  room,  and,  each  hold- 


44          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

vng  one  side,  they  unfold  the  large  cloth 
case  of  instruments  and  hold  it  up)  dis- 
closing a  huge  saw  with  two-inch  teeth, 
and  knives,  pincers,  scissors,  a  skewer, 
a  bit-stock,  an  enormous  bit,  etc.] 

LEONARD 

I  hope,  sirs,  you  don't  intend  to  use  all  those  ? 

MASTER    SIMON 

One  must  never  be  caught  unarmed  by  a  pa- 
tient. 

(The  attendants  fold  up  the  case  and  give 
it  to  Master  Jean;  then  run  back  to 
their  positions  by  the  door,  as  ALISON, 
with  a  large  tray,  bottles,  and  glasses, 
enters  from  the  kitchen.) 

LEONARD 

Will  you  drink,  gentlemen? 

(COLLINE  and  MAUGIER  take  glasses  from 
ALISON  and  drink,  after  ALISON  has 
kissed  COLLINE'S  glass.) 

MASTER    SIMON 

This  light  wine  of  yours  is  not  half  bad. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  45 

LEONARD 

Very  kind  of  you  to  say  so.     It's  from  my 
own  vineyard. 

MASTER    SIMON 

You  shall  send  me  a  cask  of  it. 

LEONARD 

[To  GILES,  who  has  poured  himself  a  glass 

full  to  the  brim.] 
I  didn't  tell  you  to  drink,  you  reprobate. 

MASTER    JEAN 

[Looking  out  of  the  window.] 
Here     is     Master     Serafin     Dulaurier,     the 
apothecary. 

[Enter  MASTER  SERAFIN.  (He  trots 
across  the  stage,  stopping  to  bow  to 
the  audience.)] 


MASTER    SIMON 

(Peering  into  the  street.) 
And  here  is  his  mule !  ...  Or  no — 'tis  Mas- 
ter Serafin  himself.     You  never  can  tell  them 


46          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

apart.  ('MASTER  SERAFIN  joins  the  group  in 
the  room.)  Drink,  Master  Serafin.  It  is  fresh 
from  the  cellar. 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

Your  good  health,  my  Masters! 

MASTER    SIMON 

[To  ALISON.] 

Pour  freely,  fair  Hebe.  Pour  right,  pour 
left,  pour  here,  pour  there.  Whichever  way 
she  turns,  she  shows  new  charms.  Are  you  not 
proud,  my  girl,  of  your  trim  figure? 

ALISON 

For  all  the  good  it  does  me,  there  is  no  rea- 
son to  be  proud  of  it.  Charms  are  not  worth 
much  unless  they  are  hidden  in  silk  and  brocade. 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

Your  good  health,  my  Masters ! 

[They  ALL  drink,  and  make  ALISON  drink 
with  them.] 

ALISON 

You  like  to  fool  with  us.  But  free  gratis 
for  nothing. 


"Now  we  are  all  here,  shall  we  go  see  the  patient?" 


A  DUMB  WIFE  47 

MASTER    SIMON 

Now  we  are  all  here,  shall  we  go  see  the  pa- 
tient? 

LEONARD 

I  will  show  you  the  way,  gentlemen. 

MASTER   SIMON 

After  you,  Master  Maugier,  you  go  first. 

MASTER   MAUGIER 

(Glass  in  one  hand,  case  of  Instruments  in 

the  other.) 

I'll  go  first,  since  the  place  of  honour  is  the 
rear.  (He  crosses  to  the  left,  and  goes  behind 
the  table  toward  the  door,  following  Botal.) 

MASTER   SIMON 

After  you,  Master  Serafin  Dulaurier. 

[MASTER  SERAFIN  follows  Maugier,  bottle 
in  hand.  MASTER  SIMON,  after  stuffing 
a  bottle  into  each  pocket  of  his  gown, 
and  kissing  the  servant,  ALISON,  goes 
up  stage,  singing.] 

Then  drmk!  and  drink!  and  drink  agam! 

Drink  shall  drown  our  care  and  pain. 


48          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

Good  friends  must  drink  before  they  part, 
To  warm  the  cockles  of  the  heart! 

[ALISON,  after  cuffing  GILES,  who  was  try- 
ing to  kiss  her,  goes  up  last.} 
('ALL  sing  in  chorus  as  they  go  out  by  the 

right  upper  door:) 
Then  drink!  and  drink!  and  drmk  agam! 

[End  of  ACT  7] 


ACT  II 

Scene: — the  same.     Four  or  -jive  hours  have 
elapsed. 

SCENE  I 
LEONARD,  MASTER  ADAM. 

MASTER  ADAM 

Good  afternoon,  your  Honour.   How  are  you 
this  afternoon? 

LEONARD 

Well,  fairly  well.    And  how  are  you? 

MASTER    ADAM 

Well  as  can  be.     Excuse  my  besieging  you, 
your  Honour,  my  dear  comrade.     Have  you 
looked  into  the  case  of  my  young  ward  who's 
been  robbed  by  her  guardian? 
49 


50          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

Not  yet,  Master  Adam  Fumee.  ...  But 
what's  that  you  say?  You've  been  robbing 
your  ward? 

MASTER    ADAM 

No,  no,  never  think  it,  your  Honour.  I  said 
"my"  out  of  pure  interest  in  her.  But  I  am 
not  her  guardian,  thank  God!  I'm  her  law- 
yer. And,  if  she  gets  back  her  estate,  which  is 
no  small  estate  neither,  then  I  shall  be  her  hus- 
band; yes,  I've  had  the  foresight  to  make  her 
fall  in  love  with  me  already.  And  so,  I  shall  be 
greatly  obliged  to  you  if  you'll  examine  her 
case  at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  read  the  statement  I  gave  you ; 
that  contains  everything  you  need  to  know 
about  the  case. 

LEONARD 

Your  statement  is  there,  Master  Adam,  on 
my  table.  I  should  have  looked  through  it  al- 
ready, if  I  hadn't  been  so  besieged.  But  I've 
been  entertaining  the  flower  of  the  medical  fac- 
ulty here.  (Suddenly  seizing  him  by  the  shoul- 
ders and  shaking  him.)  'Twas  your  advice 
brought  this  trouble  upon  me. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  51 

MASTER    ADAM 

Why,  what  do  you  mean? 

LEONARD 

I  sent  for  the  famous  doctor  you  told  me 
about,  Master  Simon  Colline.  He  came,  with 
a  surgeon  and  an  apothecary;  he  examined  my 
wife,  Catherine,  from  head  to  foot,  to  see  if 
she  was  dumb.  Then,  the  surgeon  cut  my  dear 
Catherine's  tongue-ligament,  the  apothecary 
gave  her  a  pill — and  she  spoke. 

MASTER    ADAM 

She  spoke?    Did  she  need  a  pill,  to  speak? 

LEONARD 

Yes,  because  of  the  interdependence  of  the 
organs. 

MASTER    ADAM 

Oh!  Ah!  .  .  .  Anyhow,  the  main  point  is, 
she  spoke.  And  what  did  she  say? 

LEONARD 

She  said:  "Bring  me  my  looking-glass!" 
And,  seeing  me  quite  overcome  by  my  feelings, 


52          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

she  added,  "You  old  goose,  you  shall  give  me  a 
new  satin  gown  and  a  velvet-trimmed  cape  for 
my  birthday." 

MASTER   ADAM 

And  she  kept  on  talking? 

LEONARD 

She  hasn't  stopped  yet. 

MASTER    ADAM 

And  yet  you  don't  thank  me  for  my  advice; 
you  don't  thank  me  for  having  sent  you  to  that 
wonderful  doctor?  Aren't  you  overjoyed  to 
hear  your  wife  speak? 

LEONARD 

[Sourly.] 

Yes,  certainly.  I  thank  you  with  all  my 
heart,  Master  Adam  Fumee,  and  I  am  over- 
joyed to  hear  my  wife  speak. 

MASTER    ADAM 

No!  You  do  not  show  as  much  satisfaction 
as  you  ought  to.  There  is  something  you  are 
keeping  back — something  that's  worrying  you. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  53 

LEONARD 

Where  did  you  get  such  a  notion? 

MASTER    ADAM 

From  your  face.  .  .  .  What  is  bothering 
you?  Isn't  your  wife's  speech  clear? 

LEONARD 

Yes,  it's  clear — and  abundant.  I  must  ad- 
mit, its  abundance  would  be  a  trial  to  me  if  it 
kept  up  at  the  rate  which  it  started  at. 

MASTER    ADAM 

Ah!  ...  I  feared  that  beforehand,  your 
Honour.  But  you  mustn't  be  cast  down  too 
soon.  Perhaps  this  flood  of  words  will  ebb.  It 
is  the  first  overflow  of  a  spring  too  long  bot- 
tled up.  .  .  .  My  best  congratulations,  your 
Honour.  My  ward's  name  is  Ermeline  de  la  Ga- 
randiere.  Don't  forget  her  name ;  show  her  fa- 
vour, and  you  will  find  proper  gratitude.  I  will 
be  back  later  in  the  day. 

LEONARD 

Master  Adam  Fumee,  I  will  look  into  your 
case  at  once. 

[Exit  MASTER  ADAM  FUMEE.] 


54          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

SCENE  II 
LEONARD;  later  CATHERINE. 

('CATHERINE  is  heard  off  stage  singing  the 
Blind  Man's  song;  LEONARD  starts, 
shakes  his  head,  hurries  to  his  writing- 
table,  and  sits  down  to  work.  CATH- 
ERINE, still  singing,  enters  gaily,  and 
goes  to  him  at  the  table.) 

LEONARD 

[Reading.] 

"Statement,  on  behalf  of  Ermeline-Jacinthe- 
Marthe  de  la  Garandiere,  gentlewoman." 

CATHERINE 

(Standing  behind  his  chair,  and  first  fin- 
ishing her  song:  "La  dee  ra,  dee  ra, 
day",  then  speakmg  with  great  volubil- 
ity.) 

What  are  you  doing,  my  dear?  You  seem 
busy.  You  work  too  much.  (She  goes  to  the 
window-seat  and  takes  up  her  embroidery.) 
Aren't  you  afraid  it  will  make  you  ill?  You 


A  DUMB  WIFE  55 

must  rest  once  in  a  while.    Why  don't  you  tell 
me  what  you  are  doing,  dear? 

LEONARD 

My  love,  I  ... 

CATHERINE 

Is  it  such  a  great  secret?  Can't  I  know 
about  it? 

LEONARD 

My  love,  I  ... 

CATHERINE 

If  it's  a  secret,  don't  tell  me. 

LEONARD 

Won't  you  give  me  a  chance  to  answer?  I 
am  examining  a  case  and  preparing  to  draw 
up  a  verdict  on  it. 

CATHERINE 

Is  drawing  up  a  verdict  so  very  important? 

LEONARD 

Most  certainly  it  is.  ( CATHERINE  sits  at  the 
wmdow  singing  and  humming  to  herself,  and 


56          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

looking  out.)  In  the  first  place,  people's  hon- 
our, their  liberty,  and  sometimes  even  their  life, 
may  depend  on  it;  and  furthermore,  the  Judge 
must  show  therein  both  the  depth  of  his  thought 
and  the  finish  of  his  style. 

CATHERINE 

Then  examine  your  case  and  prepare  your 
verdict,  my  dear.  I'll  be  silent. 

LEONARD 

That's  right.  .  .  .  "Ermeline-Jacinthe-Mar- 
the  de  la  Garandiere,  gentlewoman  .  .  ." 

CATHERINE 

My  dear,  which  do  you  think  would  be  more 
becoming  to  me,  a  damask  gown,  or  a  velvet 
suit  with  a  Turkish  skirt? 

LEONARD 

I  don't  know,  I  ... 

CATHERINE 

/  think  a  flowered  satin  would  suit  my  age 
best,  especially  a  light-coloured  one,  with  a 
small  flower  pattern. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  57 


LEONARD 

Perhaps  so.     But  .  .  . 

CATHERINE 

And  don't  you  think,  my  dear,  that  it  is 
quite  improper  to  have  a  hoop-skirt  very  full? 
Of  course,  a  skirt  must  have  some  fullness  .  .  . 
or  else  you  don't  seem  dressed  at  all;  so,  we 
mustn't  let  it  be  scanty.  But,  my  dear,  you 
wouldn't  want  me  to  have  room  enough  to  hide 
a  pair  of  lovers  under  my  hoops,  now  would 
you?  That  fashion  won't  last,  I'm  sure;  some 
day  the  court  ladies  will  give  it  up,  and  then 
every  woman  in  town  will  make  haste  to  follow 
their  example.  Don't  you  think  so? 

LEONARD 

Yes!    Yes!    But  ... 

CATHERINE 

Now,  about  high  heels.  .  .  .  They  must  be 
made  just  right.  A  woman  is  judged  by  her 
foot-gear — you  can  always  tell  a  real  fine  lady 
by  her  shoes.  You  agree  with  me,  don't  you, 
dear? 


58          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

Yes,  yes,  yes,  but  .  .  . 

CATHERINE 

Then  write  out  your  verdict.  I  shan't  say 
another  word. 

LEONARD 

That's  right. 

[Reading,  and  making  notes.] 

"Now,  the  guardian  of  the  said  young  lady, 
namely,  Hugo  Thomas  of  Piedeloup,  gentle- 
man, stole  from  the  said  young  lady  her " 

CATHERINE 

My  dear,  if  one  were  to  believe  the  wife  of 
the  Chief  Justice  of  Montbadon,  the  world  has 
grown  very  corrupt;  it  is  going  to  the  bad; 
young  men  nowadays  don't  marry ;  they  prefer 
to  hang  about  rich  old  ladies ;  and  meanwhile 
the  poor  girls  are  left  to  wither  on  their  maiden 
stalks.  Do  you  think  it's  as  bad  as  all  that? 
Do  answer  me,  dear. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  59 

LEONARD 

My  darling,  won't  you  please  be  silent  one 
moment?  Or  go  and  talk  somewhere  else?  I'm 
all  at  sea. 

CATHERINE 

There,  there,  dear;  don't  worry.  I  shan't 
say  another  word!  Not  a  word! 

LEONARD 

Good! 

[Writing.] 

"The  said  Piedeloup,  gentleman,  counting 
both  hay  crops  and  apple  crops  .  .  ." 

CATHERINE 

My  dear,  we  shall  have  for  supper  to-night 
some  minced  mutton  and  what's  left  of  that 
goose  one  of  your  suitors  gave  us.  Tell  me,  is 
that  enough?  Shall  you  be  satisfied  with  it? 
I  hate  being  mean,  and  like  to  set  a  good  table, 
but  what's  the  use  of  serving  courses  which  will 
only  be  sent  back  to  the  pantry  untouched? 
The  cost  of  living  is  getting  higher  all  the 
time.  Chickens,  and  salads,  and  meats,  and 


60          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

fruit  have  all  gone  up  so,  it  will  soon  be  cheaper 
to  order  dinner  sent  in  by  a  caterer. 


LEONARD 

I  beg  you  .   .   . 

[Writing.  ] 
"An  orphan  by  birth  .  .  ." 

CATHERINE 

Yes,  that's  what  we're  coming  to.  No  home 
life  any  more.  You'll  see.  Why,  a  capon,  or 
a  partridge,  or  a  hare,  cost  less  all  stuffed  and 
roasted  than  if  you  buy  them  alive  at  the  mar- 
ket. That  is  because  the  cook-shops  buy 
in  large  quantities  and  get  a  big  discount;  so 
they  can  sell  to  us  at  a  profit.  I  don't  say  we 
ought  to  get  our  regular  meals  from  the  cook- 
shop.  We  can  do  our  everyday  plain  cooking 
at  home,  and  it's  better  to ;  but  when  we  invite 
people  in,  or  give  a  formal  dinner  party,  then 
it  saves  time  and  money  to  have  the  dinner 
sent  in.  Why,  at  less  than  an  hour's  notice, 
the  cook-shops  and  cake-shops  will  get  you  up 
a  dinner  for  a  dozen,  or  twenty,  or  fifty  people ; 
the  cook-shop  will  send  in  meat  and  poultry,  the 


A  DUMB  WIFE  61 

caterer  will  send  galantines  and  sauces  and  rel- 
ishes, the  pastry-cook  will  send  pies  and  tarts 
and  sweets  and  desserts ;  and  it's  all  so  con- 
venient. Now,  don't  you  think  so  yourself, 
Leonard  ? 

LEONARD 

Please,  please ! 

(^LEONARD  tries  to  write  through  the  fol- 
lowing speech,  murmuring:  "An  or- 
phan by  birth,  a  capon  by  bir.th,  an  olla 
podrida,"  etc.) 


CATHERINE 

It's  no  wonder  everything  goes  up.  People 
are  getting  more  extravagant  every  day.  If 
they  are  entertaining  a  friend,  or  even  a  rela- 
tive, they  don't  think  they  can  do  with  only 
three  courses,  soup,  meat,  and  dessert.  No, 
they  have  to  have  meats  in  five  or  six  different 
styles,  with  so  many  sauces,  or  dressings,  or 
pasties,  that  it's  a  regular  olla  podrida.  Now, 
don't  you  think  that  is  going  too  far,  my  dear? 
For  my  part  I  just  cannot  understand  how 
people  can  take  pleasure  in  stuffing  themselves 
with  so  many  kinds  of  food.  Not  that  I  despise 


62          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

a  good  table ;  why,  I'm  even  a  bit  of  an  epicure 
myself.  "Not  too  plenty,  but  dainty,"  suits 
my  taste.  Now,  what  I  like  best  of  all  is  ca- 
pons' kidneys  with  artichoke  hearts.  But  you, 
Leonard,  I  suspect  you  have  a  weakness  for 
tripe  and  sausages.  Oh,  fie!  Oh,  fie!  How 
can  anyone  enjoy  sausages? 

LEONARD 

[His  head  in  his  hands.] 
I  shall  go  mad!     I  know  I  shall  go  mad. 

CATHERINE 

(Running  to  the  table  behind  him.) 
My  dear,  I  just  shan't  say  another  word — 
not  a  single  word.    For  I  can  see  that  my  chat- 
tering might  possibly  disturb  your  work. 

LEONARD 

If  you  would  only  do  as  you  say ! 

CATHERINE 

(Returning  to  her  place.) 
I  shan't  even  open  my  lips. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  63 


LEONARD 

Splendid ! 

CATHERINE 

(Busily  embroidering.) 
You  see,  dear,  I'm  not  saying  another  word. 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

CATHERINE 

I'm  letting  you  work  in  perfect  peace  and 
quiet. 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

CATHERINE 

And  write  out  your  verdict  quite  undis- 
turbed. Is  it  almost  done? 

LEONARD 

It  never  will  be — if  you  don't  keep  still. 
[Writing.] 

"Item,  One  hundred  twenty  pounds  a  year, 
which  the  said  unworthy  guardian  stole  from 
the  poor  orphan  girl  .  .  ." 


64          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

CATHERINE 

Listen!  Ssh-sh!  Listen!  Didn't  you  hear 
a  cry  of  fire?  (Leonard  runs  to  the  window, 
looks  out,  and  then  shakes  his  head  at  Cath- 
erine.) I  thought  I  did.  But  perhaps  I  may 
have  been  mistaken.  Is  there  anything  so  ter- 
rifying as  a  fire?  Fire  is  even  worse  than 
water.  Last  year  I  saw  the  houses  on  Ex- 
change Bridge  burn  up.  What  confusion! 
What  havoc!  The  people  threw  their  furni- 
ture into  the  river,  and  jumped  out  of  the  win- 
dows. They  didn't  know  what  they  were  about ; 
you  see,  fear  drove  them  out  of  their  senses. 

LEONARD 

Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me ! 

CATHERINE 

Oh !  What  makes  you  groan  so,  dear  ?  Tell 
me,  tell  me  what  is  the  matter? 

LEONARD 
I  can't  endure  it  another  minute. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  65 

CATHERINE 

You  must  rest,  Leonard.  You  mustn't  work 
so  hard.  It  isn't  reasonable.  You  have  no 
right  to  ... 

LEONARD 

Will  you  never  be  still? 

CATHERINE 

Now,  don't  be  cross,  dear.  I'm  not  saying 
a  word. 

LEONARD 

Would  to  Heaven! 

('MADAME  DE  LA  BRTTINE,  followed  by  her 
footman,  crosses  the  stage  during  the 
following  speech.) 

CATHERINE 

[Looking  out  of  the  window."] 
Oh!  Here  comes  Madame  de  la  Bruine, 
the  attorney's  wife!  She's  got  on  a  silk-lined 
hood  and  a  heavy  puce-coloured  cape  over  her 
brocade  gown.  And  she  has  a  lackey  with  a 
face  like  a  smoked  herring.  Leonard,  she's 
looking  this  way ;  I  believe  she's  ccfming  to  call. 
Hurry  and  arrange  the  chairs  and  bring  up  an 


66          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

armchair  for  her;  we  must  show  people  proper 
respect  according  to  their  rank  and  station. 
She  is  stopping  at  our  door.  No,  she's  going 
on.  She's  gone  on.  Perhaps  I  was  mistaken. 
Perhaps  it  was  somebody  else.  You  can't  be 
sure  about  recognising  people.  But  if  it  wasn't 
she,  it  was  somebody  like  her,  and  even  very 
much  like  her.  Now  I  think  of  it,  I'm  sure  it 
was  she,  there  simply  couldn't  be  another  wom- 
an in  Paris  so  like  Madame  de  la  Bruine.  My 
dear.  .  .  My  dear.  .  .  Would  you  have  liked 
to  have  Madame  de  la  Bruine  call  on  us? 

[She  sits  down  on  his  table.] 
I  know  you  don't  like  rattle-tongued  women ; 
it's  lucky  for  you  that  you  didn't  marry  her; 
she  jabbers  like  a  magpie;  she  does  nothing  but 
gabble  from  morning  to  night.  What  a  chat- 
terbox! And  sometimes  she  tells  stories  which 
are  not  to  her  credit. 

[LEONARD,  driven  beyond  endurance, 
climbs  up  on  his  step-ladder  and  sits 
down  on  one  of  the  middle  steps,  and 
tries  to  write  there.] 

In  the  first  place,  she  always  gives  you  a  list 
of  all  the  presents  her  husband  has  received. 
It's  a  dreadful  bore  to  hear  her  tell  them  over. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  67 

[She  climbs  up  on  the  other  side  of  the 
double  step-ladder  and  sits  down  oppo- 
site Leonard '.] 

What  is  it  to  us,  if  the  Attorney  de  la  Bruine 
receives  presents  of  game,  or  flour,  or  fresh 
fish,  or  even  a  sugar-loaf?  But  Madame  de  la 
Bruine  takes  good  care  not  to  tell  you  that  one 
day  her  husband  received  a  great  Amiens  pasty, 
and  when  he  opened  it  he  found  nothing  but  an 
enormous  pair  of  horns. 

LEONARD 

My  head  will  burst! 

[He  takes  refuge  on  top  of  one  of  the 
cabinets,  with  his  writing-case  and  pa- 
pers.] 

CATHERINE 

[At  the  top  of  the  ladder.] 
And  did  you  see  my  fine  lady,  who's  really 
no  lady  at  all,  wearing  an  embroidered  cape, 
just  like  any  princess?  Don't  you  think  it's 
ridiculous  !  But  there !  Nowadays  everybody 
dresses  above  his  station,  men  as  well  as  wom- 
en. Your  court  secretaries  try  to  pass  for 
gentlemen;  they  wear  gold  chains  and  jewelry, 


68          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

ami  feathers  in  their  hats;  all  the  same,  any- 
one can  tell  what  they  are. 

LEONARD 

[On  top  of  his  cupboard.] 
I've  got  to  the  point  where  I  can't  answer  for 
the  consequences ;  I  feel  capable  of  committing 
any  crime. 

[Calling.] 

Giles!  Giles!  Giles!     The  scoundrel!     Giles! 
Alison !  Giles  !  Giles ! 
[Enter  GILES.] 

Go  quick  and  find  the  famous  Doctor  in  Buci 
Square,  Master  Simon  Colline,  and  tell  him  to 
come  back  here  at  once  for  a  matter  far  more 
needful  and  urgent  than  before. 

GILES 

Yes,  your  Honour. 
[Exit.'] 

CATHERINE 

What's  the  matter,  my  dear?  You  seem  ex- 
cited. Perhaps  the  air  is  close.  No?  It's  the 
east  wind,  then,  don't  you  think? — or  the  fish 
you  ate  for  dinner? 


A  DUMB  WIFE  69 

LEONARD 

[Frantically  gesticulating  on  top  of  his 

cupboard.] 

Non  omnia  possumus  omnes.  It  is  the  office 
of  servants  to  clean  crockery,  of  mercers  to 
measure  ribbon,  of  monks  to  beg,  of  birds  to 
drop  dirt  around  everywhere,  and  of  women  to 
cackle  and  chatter  like  mad.  Oh!  How  I  re- 
gret, you  saucy  baggage,  that  I  had  your 
tongue  loosed.  Don't  you  worry,  though — the 
famous  doctor  shall  soon  make  you  more  dumb 
than  ever  you  were. 

[He  catches  up  armfuls  of  the  brief-bags 
which  are  piled  on  his  cupboard  of  ref- 
uge, and  throws  them  at  CATHERINE'S 
head;  she  jumps  nimbly  down  from  the 
ladder  and  runs  off  in  terror,  crying:] 

CATHERINE 

Help!  Murder!  My  husband's  gone  mad! 
Help!  help! 

LEONARD 

Alison !  Alison ! 
[Enter  ALISON.] 


70          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 


ALISON 

What  a  life!      Sir,  have  you  turned  mur- 
derer? 

LEONARD 

Alison,  follow  her,  stay  by  her,  and  don't  let 
her  come  down.  As  you  value  your  life,  Ali- 
son, don't  let  her  come  down.  For  if  I  hear 
another  word  from  her,  I  shall  go  raving  mad, 
and  God  knows  what  I  might  do  to  her — and 
to  you.  Go !  Off  with  you ! 
[ALISON  goes  upstairs.] 


A  DUMB  WIFE 


SCENE  III 

LEONARD,  MASTER  ADAM,  MI/LE.  DE  LA  GARAN- 
DIERE,  and  a  LACKEY  carrying  a  basket. 
('LEONARD  is  still  on  top  of  the  cabmet  or 
book-case.     MASTER  ADAM  and  MLLE. 
DE  LA  GARANDIERE  climb  up  on  each  side 
of  the  step-ladder.     The  LACKEY,  with 
an  enormous  basket  on  his  head,  kneels 
in  front,  centre.) 

MASTER    ADAM 

Permit  me,  your  Honour,  with  the  object  of 
softening  your  heart  and  arousing  your  pity,  to 
present  before  you  this  young  orphan  girl,  de- 
spoiled by  a  grasping  guardian,  who  implores 
you  for  justice.  Her  eyes  will  speak  to  your 
heart  more  eloquently  than  my  voice.  Mile,  de 
la  Garandiere  brings  you  her  prayers  and  her 
tears;  she  adds  thereunto  one  ham,  two  duck 
pies,  a  goose,  and  two  goslings.  She  ventures 
to  hope  in  exchange  for  a  favouring  verdict. 


72          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

Mademoiselle,  you  arouse  my  interest.  .  .  . 
Have  you  anything  to  add  in  defence  of  your 
case? 

MLLE.    DE    LA    GARANDIERE 

You  are  only  too  kind,  sir;  I  must  rest  my 
case  on  what  my  lawyer  has  just  said. 

LEONARD 

That  is  aU? 

MLLE.    DE    LA   GARANDIERE 

Yes,  sir. 

LEONARD 

She  knows  how  to  speak — and  to  stop.  The 
poor  orphan  touches  my  heart. 

[To  the  LACKEY.] 
Carry  that  package  to  the  pantry. 
[Exit  LACKEY.] 
[To  MASTER  ADAM.] 

Master  Adam,  when  you  came  in,  I  was 
just  drawing  up  the  decree  which  I  shall  pres- 
ently render  in  this  young  lady's  case. 

[He  starts  to  come  down  from  his  cabi- 
net.] 


"Mademoiselle,  you  arouse  my   interest." 


A  DUMB  WIFE  73 

MASTER    ADAM 

What,  up  on  that  cupboard? 

LEONARD 

I  don't  know  where  I  am;  my  head  is  going 
round  and  round.     Do  you  want  to  hear  the 
decree?     I  need  to  read  it  over  myself. 
[Reading.] 

"Whereas,  Mile,  de  la  Garandiere,  spinster, 
and  an  orphan  by  birth,  did  fraudulently,  de- 
ceitfully, and  with  injurious  intent,  steal,  filch, 
and  subtract  from  her  lawful  guardian,  Squire 
Piedeloup,  gentleman,  ten  loads  of  hay  and 
eighty  pounds  of  fresh-water  fish,  and  where- 
as, there  is  nothing  so  terrifying  as  a  fire,  and 
whereas,  the  State's  Attorney  did  receive  an 
Amiens  pasty  in  which  were  two  great 
horns  .  .  ." 

MASTER    ADAM 

What  in  Heaven's  name  are  you  reading? 

LEONARD 

Don't  ask  me.  I  don't  know  myself.  I  think 
my  brains  have  been  brayed  in  a  mortar,  for 


74          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

two  hours  running,  by  the  very  devil  himself 
for  a  pestle.  (He  breaks  down  and  weeps  on 
their  shoulders.)  I'm  a  driveling  idiot.  .  .  . 
And  all  your  fault,  too,  Master  Adam  Fu- 
mee.  ...  If  that  fine  doctor  of  yours  hadn't 
restored  my  wife's  speech  .  .  . 

MASTER    ADAM 

Don't  blame  me,  Master  Leonard.  I  fore- 
warned you.  I  told  you  right  enough,  that 
you  must  think  twice  before  untying  a  wom- 
an's tongue. 

LEONARD 

Ah,  Master  Adam  Fumee,  how  I  long  for  the 
time  when  my  Catherine  was  dumb.  No!  Na- 
ture has  no  scourge  more  fearsome  than  a  rat- 
tle-tongued  female.  .  .  .  But  I  count  on  the 
doctors  to  recall  their  cruel  gift.  I  have  sent 
for  them.  Here's  the  surgeon  now. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  75 


SCENE  IV 

THE  SAME,  MASTER  JEAN  MAUGIER;  later 
MASTER  SIMON  COLLINE  and  MASTER  SERA- 
FIN  DULAURIER,  followed  by  Two  APOTHE- 
CARY'S BOYS. 

MASTER  JEAN  MATJGIER 

Your  Honour,  I  bid  you  good  day.  Here  is 
Master  Simon  Colline  coming  forward  upon  his 
mule,  followed  by  Master  Serafin  Dulaurier, 
apothecary.  About  him  crowds  the  adoring 
populace :  chambermaids,  trussing  up  their  pet- 
ticoats, and  scullions  with  hampers  on  their 
heads,  form  his  escort  of  honour. 

[Enter  MASTER  SIMON  COLLINE  and  His 
SUITE.] 

Oh!  how  justly  does  Master  Simon  Colline 
command  the  admiration  of  the  people  when  he 
goes  through  the  city  clad  in  his  doctor's  robe, 
his  square  cap,  his  cassock  and  bands.  Oh! 
how  grateful  we  should  be  to  those  noble  doc- 
tors who  labour  to  preserve  us  in  health  and 
comfort  us  in  sickness.  Ohhhh!  how  . 


76          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER  SIMON 

[To  MASTER  JEAN  MAUGiEEt] 
Have  done;  'tis  enough. 

LEONARD 

Master  Simon  Colline,  I  was  in  haste  to  see 
you.    I  urgently  beg  for  your  services. 

MASTER   SIMON 

For  yourself?  What  is  your  disease?  Where 
is  the  pain? 

LEONARD 

No !    For  my  wife ;  the  one  who  was  dumb. 

MASTER   SIMON 

Has  she  any  trouble  now? 

LEONARD 

None  at  all.    I  have  all  the  trouble  now. 

MASTER  SIMON 

What?     The  trouble  is  with  you,  and  it's 
your  wife  you  want  cured? 


A  DUMB  WIFE  77 

LEONARD 

Master  Simon  Colline,  she  talks  too  much. 
You  should  have  given  her  speech,  but  not  so 
much  speech.  Since  you've  cured  her  of  her 
dumbness,  she  drives  me  mad.  I  cannot  bear 
another  word  from  her.  I've  called  you  in  to 
make  her  dumb  again. 

MASTER   SIMON 

'Tis  impossible! 

LEONARD 

What's  that?  You  can't  take  away  the 
power  of  speech  which  you  gave  her? 

MASTER   SIMON 

No!  That  I  cannot  do.  My  skill  is  great, 
but  it  stops  short  of  that. 

(XEONARD    in   despair   turns   to   each   of 
them  in  succession.) 

MASTER    JEAN    MAUGIER 

We  cannot  do  it. 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

Our  greatest  efforts  would  have  not  the 
slightest  result. 


78          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER   SIMON 

We  have  medicines  to  make  women  speak; 
we  have  none  to  make  them  keep  silence. 

LEONARD 

You  haven't?  Is  that  your  last  word?  You 
drive  me  to  despair. 

MASTER   SIMON 

Alas,  your  Honour!  (He  advances  to  the 
centre,  claps  his  hands  for  attention,  and  de- 
claims.) There  is  no  elixir,  balm,  magisterium, 
opiate,  unguent,  ointment,  local  application, 
electuary,  nor  panacea,  that  can  cure  the  excess 
of  glottal  activity  in  woman.  Treacle  and  or- 
vietano  would  be  without  virtue,  and  all  the 
herbs  described  by  Dioscorides  would  have  no 
effect. 

LEONARD 

Can  this  be  true? 

MASTER   SIMON 

Sir,  you  dare  not  so  offend  me  as  to  doubt  it. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  79 

LEONARD 

Then  I  am  a  ruined  man.  There's  nothing 
left  for  me  to  do  but  tie  a  stone  around  my 
neck  and  jump  into  the  Seine.  (He  rushes  to 
the  window  and  tries  to  jump  out,  but  is  held 
back  by  the  doctors.)  I  cannot  live  in  this 
hubbub.  (The  doctors  drag  him  back,  set  him 
down,  and,  with  MASTER  ADAM,  stand  in  a  circle 
in  front  of  him.)  If  you  don't  want  me  to 
drown  myself  straightway,  then  you  doctors 
must  find  me  some  cure. 

MASTER   SIMON 

There  is  none,  I  tell  you,  for  your  wife.  But 
there  might  be  one  for  you,  if  you  would  con- 
sent to  take  it. 

LEONARD 

You  give  me  a  little  hope.  Explain  it,  for 
Heaven's  sake. 

MASTER   SIMON 

For  the  clack  of  a  wife,  there's  but  one  cure 
in  life.  Let  her  husband  be  deaf.  'Tis  the  only 
relief. 

LEONARD 

What  do  you  mean? 


80          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

MASTER    SIMON 

Just  what  I  say. 

MASTEE    ADAM 

Don't  you  understand?  That's  the  finest 
discovery  yet.  Since  he  can't  make  your  wife 
dumb,  this  great  doctor  offers  to  make  you 
deaf. 

LEONARD 

Make  me  really  deaf?    Oh!  ... 

(He  starts  to  rise,  but  is  pushed  back  by 
MASTER  SIMON,  who  stands  directly  in 
front  of  him.) 

MASTER    SIMON 

Certainly.  I  can  cure  you  at  once,  and  for 
all  time,  of  your  wife's  verbal  hypertrophy,  by 
means  of  cophosis. 

LEONARD 

By  cophosis?     What  is  cophosis? 

MASTER    SIMON 

'Tis  what  is  vulgarly  called  deafness.  Do 
you  see  any  disadvantages  in  becoming  deaf? 

LEONARD 

Certainly  I  do! 


A  DUMB  WIFE  81 

MASTER    JEAN    MAUGIER 

You  think  so? 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

For  instance? 

MASTER    SIMON 

You  are  a  Judge.  What  disadvantage  is 
there  in  a  Judge's  being  deaf? 

MASTER    ADAM 

None  at  all.  Believe  me;  I  am  a  practicing 
lawyer.  There  is  none  at  all. 

MASTER    SIMON 

What  harm  could  come  to  justice  thereby? 

MASTER    ADAM 

No  harm  at  all.  Quite  the  contrary.  Master 
Leonard  Botal  could  then  hear  neither  lawyers 
nor  prosecutors,  and  so  would  run  no  risk  of 
being  deceived  by  a  lot  of  lies. 

LEONARD 

That's  true. 

MASTER    ADAM 

He  will  judge  all  the  better. 


82          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

May  be  so. 

MASTER    ADAM 

Never  doubt  it. 

LEONARD 

But  how  do  you  perform  this  .  .  . 

MASTER    JEAN    MAUGIER 

This  cure. 

MASTER    SIMON 

Cophosis,  vulgarly  called  deafness,  may  be 
brought  about  in  several  ways.  It  is  produced 
either  by  otorrhoea,  or  by  sclerosis  of  the  ear, 
or  by  otitis,  or  else  by  anchylosis  of  the  ossicles. 
But  these  various  means  are  long  and  painful. 

LEONARD 
I  reject  them!  ...  I  reject  them  absolutely. 

MASTER    SIMON 

You  are  right.  It  is  far  better  to  induce  co- 
phosis  by  means  of  a  certain  white  powder 
which  I  have  in  my  medicine-case ;  a  pinch  of  it, 
placed  in  the  ear,  is  enough  to  make  you  as 
deaf  as  Heaven  when  it's  angry,  or  as  deaf  as 
a  post. 


A  DUMB  WIFE  83 

LEONARD 

Many  thanks,  Master  Simon  Colline;  keep 
your  powder.  I  will  not  be  made  deaf. 

MASTER    SIMON 

What?  You  won't  be  made  deaf?  What? 
You  refuse  cophosis?  You  decline  the  cure 
which  you  begged  for  just  now?  Ah,  'tis  a  case 
but  too  common,  and  one  calculated  to  make  a 
judicious  physician  grieve,  to  see  a  recalcitrant 
patient  refuse  the  salutary  medicament  .  .  . 

MASTER    JEAN    MATJGIER 

And  flee  from  the  care,  which  would  cure  all 
his  ailments  .  .  . 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

And  decline  to  be  healed.    Oh ! 

MASTER    ADAM 

Do  not  decide  too  quickly,  Master  Leonard 
Botal;  do  not  deliberately  reject  this  slight  af- 
fliction which  will  save  you  from  far  greater 
torment. 

LEONARD 

No!  I  will  not  be  deaf;  I'll  have  none  of 
your  powder. 


84 


SCENE  V 
THE  SAME,  ALISON  ;  later  CATHERINE. 

ALISON 

[Rushes  in  from  the  stairs,  stopping  her 

ears.] 

I  can't  stand  it.  My  head  will  burst.  No 
human  creature  can  stay  and  listen  to  such  a 
clatter.  There's  no  stopping  her.  I  feel  as 
if  I'd  been  caught  in  the  mill-wheel  for  two 
mortal  hours. 

(^CATHERINE  is  heard  off  stage  singing  the 
blind  man's  song.) 

LEONARD 

Wretch !  Don't  let  her  come  down.  Alison ! 
Giles !  Lock  her  in. 

MASTER   ADAM 

Oh!     Sir! 

MLLE.    DE   LA   GARANDIERE 

Oh !  Sir,  can  your  heart  be  so  cruel  as  to 
want  to  lock  the  poor  lady  up  all  alone? 


A  DUMB  WIFE  85 

('CATHERINE  is  heard  singing  again. 
LEONARD  starts  for  the  ladder,  and 
climbs  it  as  she  enters.) 

CATHERINE 

What  a  fine  large  assembly !    I  am  your  hum- 
ble servant,  gentlemen. 
[She  curtsies.] 

MASTER    SIMON    COI/LINE 

Well,  madam?  Aren't  you  pleased  with  us? 
Didn't  we  do  our  work  well  in  loosing  your 
tongue  ? 

CATHERINE 

Fairly  well,  sirs;  and  I'm  truly  grateful  to 
you.  At  first,  to  be  sure,  I  could  speak  but 
haltingly,  and  bring  out  only  a  few  words ;  now, 
however,  I  have  some  degree  of  facility;  but 
I  use  it  with  great  moderation,  for  a  garrulous 
wife  is  a  scourge  in  the  house.  Yes,  gentlemen, 
I  should  be  in  despair  if  you  could  so  much  as 
suspect  me  of  loquacity,  or  if  you  could  think 
for  a  moment  that  any  undue  desire  to  talk 
could  get  hold  on  me.  ('LEONARD,  on  top  of  the 
cabinet,  laughs  wildly.)  And  so,  I  beg  you  to 


86          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

let  me  justify  myself  here  and  now  in  the  eyes 
of  my  husband,  who,  for  some  inconceivable 
reason,  has  become  prejudiced  against  me,  and 
taken  it  into  his  head  that  my  conversation 
bothered  him  while  he  was  drawing  up  a  de- 
cree. .  .  .  Yes,  a  decree  in  favour  of  an  or- 
phan girl  deprived  of  her  father  and  mother  in 
the  flower  of  her  youth.  But  no  matter  for 
that.  (She  crosses  to  the  ladder  and  starts  to 
go  tip  one  side  of  it.  LEONARD  climbs  down  the 
other  side,  goes  first  to  one  doctor,  then  to 
another,  and  finally  sits  down  on  the  bench  in 
front  of  the  table.)  I  was  sitting  beside  him 
and  hardly  saying  a  single  word  to  him.  My 
only  speech  was  my  presence.  Can  a  husband 
object  to  that?  Can  he  take  it  ill  when  his  wife 
stays  with  him  and  seeks  to  enjoy  his  company, 
as  she  ought? 

(She  goes  to  her  husband  and  sits  down 
beside  him.  During  the  rest  of  the 
speech  all  those  present,  one  after  an- 
other, sink  down  in  exhaustion  at  listen- 
ing to  her.) 

The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  less  I  can  under- 
stand your  impatience.  What  can  have  caused 
it?  You  must  stop  pretending  it  was  my  talka- 


A  DUMB  WIFE  87 

tiveness.  That  idea  won't  hold  water  one  mo- 
ment. My  dear,  you  must  have  some  griev- 
ance against  me  which  I  know  nothing  about ;  I 
beg  you  to  tell  me  what  it  is.  You  owe  me  an 
explanation,  and  as  soon  as  I  find  out  what  dis- 
pleased you  I  will  see  to  it  that  you  have  no 
reason  to  complain  of  the  same  thing  again — 
if  only  you'll  tell  me  what  it  is.  For  I  am  eager 
to  save  you  from  the  slightest  reason  for  dis- 
satisfaction. My  mother  used  to  say:  "Be- 
tween husband  and  wife,  there  should  be  no  se- 
crets." And  she  was  quite  right.  Married 
people  have  only  too  often  brought  down  ter- 
rible catastrophes  on  themselves  or  their 
households  just  because  they  didn't  tell  each 
other  everything.  That  is  what  happened  to  the 
Chief  Justice  of  Beaupreau's  wife.  To  give  her 
husband  a  pleasant  surprise,  she  shut  up  a  lit- 
the  sucking  pig  in  a  chest  in  her  room.  Her 
husband  heard  it  squealing,  and  thought  it  was 
a  lover,  so  he  out  with  his  sword  and  ran  his 
wife  through  the  heart,  without  even  waiting 
to  hear  the  poor  lady's  explanation.  You  can 
imagine  his  surprise  and  despair  when  he 
opened  the  chest.  And  that  shows  you  must 
never  have  secrets,  even  for  good  reasons.  My 


88          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

dear,  you  can  speak  freely  before  these  gentle- 
men. I  know  I  have  done  nothing  wrong,  so 
whatever  you  say  can  only  prove  the  more 
clearly  how  innocent  I  am. 


LEONARD 

[Who  has  for  some  time  been  trying  m 
vain  by  gestures  and  exclamations  to 
stop  CATHERINE'S  flow  of  words,  and 
has  been  showing  signs  of  extreme  impa- 
tience.] 

The  powder!  Give  me  the  powder!  Master 
Simon  Colline,  your  powder — your  white  pow- 
der, for  God's  sake! 


MASTER    SIMON 

Never  was  a  deafness-producing  powder 
more  needed,  that's  sure.  Be  so  kind  as  to  sit 
down,  your  Honour.  Master  Serafin  Dulau- 
rier  will  inject  the  cophosis  powder  in  your 
ears. 

(The  doctors  crowd  about  LEONARD,  and 
inject  the  powder  first  in  one  ear  and 
then  in  the  other.) 


A  DUMB  WIFE  89 

MASTER  SEEAFIN 

Gladly,  sir,  gladly. 

MASTER    SIMON 

There!     'Tis  done. 

CATHERINE 

[To  MASTER  ADAM  FUMEE.] 

Master  Adam,  you  are  a  lawyer.  Make  my 
husband  hear  reason.  Tell  him  that  he  must 
listen  to  me,  that  it's  unheard  of  to  condemn  a 
wife  without  letting  her  state  her  case,  tell  him 
it's  not  right  to  throw  brief-bags  at  your  wife's 
head — yes,  he  threw  brief-bags  at  my  head — 
unless  you  are  forced  to  it  by  some  very  strong 
feeling  or  reason.  ...  Or  no ! — no,  I'll  tell  him 
myself. 

[To  LEONARD.] 

My  dear,  answer  me,  have  I  ever  failed  you 
in  anything?  Am  I  a  naughty  woman?  Am  I 
a  bad  wife?  No,  I  have  been  faithful  to  my 
duty ;  I  may  even  say  I  have  loved  my  duty  .  .  . 


90          THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 

LEONARD 

[His  face  expressing  beatitude,  as  he  calm- 
It/  twirls  his  thumbs.] 
'Tis  delicious.     I  can't  hear  a  thing. 

CATHERINE 

Listen  to  me,  Leonard,  I  love  you  tenderly. 
I  will  open  my  heart  to  you.  I  am  not  one  of 
those  light,  frivolous  women  who  are  afflicted 
or  consoled  by  airy  nothings,  and  amused  by 
trifles.  (She  puts  her  arms  about  him  and  they 
rock  back  and  forth,  LEONARD  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear.)  I  need  companionship.  I  need  to 
be  understood.  That  is  my  nature — I  was  born 
so.  When  I  was  only  seven  years  old  I  had  a 
little  dog,  a  little  yellow  dog.  .  .  .  But  you're 
not  listening  to  me  ... 

MASTER    SIMON 

Madam,  he  can't  listen  to  you,  or  to  any- 
one else.  He  can't  hear. 

CATHERINE 

What  do  you  mean  he  can't  hear? 

MASTER    SIMON 

I  mean  just  that.  He  can'f  hear,  as  the  re- 
sult of  a  cure  he  has  just  taken. 

(The  BLIND  MAN  is  heard  again,  playing 
the  same  air.) 


"  'Tis  delicious !     I  can't  hear  a  tiling." 


A  DUMB  WIFE  91 

MASTER    SERAFIN 

A  cure  which  has  produced  in  him  a  sweet 
and  pleasant  cophosis. 

CATHERINE 

I'll  make  him  hear,  I  tell  you. 

MASTER   SIMON 

No,  you  won't,  madam;  it  can't  be  done. 

CATHERINE 

You  shall  see. 

[To  her  husband,  affectionately.] 
My  dear,   my  beloved,   my  pretty  one,  my 
sweetheart,     my    better-half.  .   .  .  You     don't 
hear  me? 

[She  shakes  him.] 

You  monster,  you  Herod,  you  Bluebeard, 
you  old  cuckold. 

LEONARD 

I  can't  hear  her  with  my  ears,  but  I  hear 
her  only  too  well  with  my  arms,  and  with  my 
shoulders  and  back. 

MASTER   SIMON 

She  is  going  mad. 


MASTER    MAUGIER 

She  has  gone  mad !     Stark  staring  mad ! 

LEONARD 

Oh!  How  can  I  get  away?  ( CATHERINE 
bites  his  neck.)  Oh !  She  has  bitten  me,  I  feel 
myself  going  mad,  too. 

(The  BLIND  MAN  has  come  forward,  play- 
ing and  singing  the  first  verse  of  his 
song.  Meanwhile  CATHERINE  and  LEON- 
ARD go  singing  and  dancing  about,  and 
bite  the  others,  who  likewise  go  mad  and 
sing  and  dance  wildly,  all  at  the  front 
of  the  stage.  The  other  characters  of 
the  play  come  in — the  CANDLE  MAN, 
CHIMNEY  SWEEP,  MADAME  DE  LA  BRU- 
INE,  etc.;  all  are  caught  and  bitten,  and 
join  in  the  song  and  the  dance,  which 
resolves  itself  into  the  old-fashioned 
country  "right  and  left",  as  they  sing 
the  second  verse.) 

ALL 

Along  the  rippling  river's  bank, 
La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 


"Oh!    She  has  bitten  me!' 


93 

Along  the  wimpling  water's  bank, 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 
Along  the  bank  so  shady  0 
I  met  the  miller's  lady  0 
And  danced  with  her  the  livelong  day, 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 
And  oh!  I  danced  my  heart  away, 

La  dee  ra,  dee  ra,  day. 
(As  LEONARD  BOTAL  reaches   the  centre 

of  the  front  stage,   the  dance  stops  a 

moment  for  him  to  say  to  the  audience  :) 

LEONARD 

Good  gentlemen  and  ladies,  we  pray  you  to 
forgive  the  author  all  his  faults. 

(  The  dance  re-commences,  and  as  the  cur- 
tain falls  all  dance  off  left  or  right,  smg- 
vng  the  refrain.) 


,  diminuendo 
I  danced  with  her  the  livelong  day, 

La  dee  ra,  la  dee  ra, 
And  oh!  I  danced  my  heart  away, 

La  dee  ra,  dee  ra,  day. 

CURTAIN 


BLIND  MAN'S  SONG  AND  DANCE 
( To  the  tune  of  "Dargason."  ) 


gRtfl    N    I 
(qrttfl  J  I  J 


There's    lots        of      good      fish      in          the      sea,       La 


dee    -    ra,        la      dee         ra,     Now  who   will    come   and 


fish    with      me  ?    La    dee    -    ra,         la      dee      ra,     Now 


who   with   me    will   fish  -  ing    go,     My  dain  -  ty,  dain  -  ty 


r  t 


dam  -  sel,     O,  Come  fish     the   live  -  long  day  with  me,   And 


who    will    then    be  caught,  we'll  see,    La     dee   -   ra,      la 


dee    -    ra,       La       dee    -    ra,       dee  -    ra  -     day. 


DRINKING  SONG 

(To  the  tune  of  "The  Beggar.") 
See  Folk  Songs  from  Somerset,  No.  82. 


Then     drink    and   drink   and   drink    a  -  gain,     And 


m 


drown    all    care    and    pain,    Good  friends  must  drink  be  - 


Afe 


fore    they    part,     To  warm  the  cock  -  les    of   the   heart. 
CHORUS. 


Let    the  back  and  the  sides   go   bare,  my  boys,  Let  the 


&     . 

i 
1 


hands  and  the  feet  gang  cold     But  give  to  the  bel-ly,  boys, 


wine    e  -  nough,  Whether  it        be    new      or      old. 


STREET  CRIES 


Chickweed. 


*> 


3t 


Chick    -     weed, 


Chick         weed,  good 


£ 


bird-seed,  good  bird-seed,  good  bird-seed      for      sale. 
Sweeps. 


=£ 


Sweep,  Sweep,       your      chim   -   neys          my 


:$: 


1 


la          dies, 
Water  Cress. 


Sweep    them      clear       and       clean. 


Era1 


Goodwa-ter  cress,  fresh  from  the  spring,  keeps  you  heal  thy  and 


&=£ 


hearty,         Six  farthings  a  bunch,  Six  farth-ings    a       bunch. 
Candles. 


Can-  dies,     Cot-ton-wick  can-dies,  burn  bright  as  the  stars. 


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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000715463     6 


